


Healing

by Higgles123



Category: Warrior (2011)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-30
Updated: 2019-12-30
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:01:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22035232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Higgles123/pseuds/Higgles123
Summary: My first attempt at some Tommy Conlon! This poor boy needs all the love in the land!
Relationships: Tommy Conlon/Original Female Character(s)
Kudos: 20





	Healing

Tommy awoke with a start. Sweat poured from him as he struggled to control his breathing. It felt so real. The nightmares. They always felt so real. They were always the same. First he was young and listening to the sounds of his mother crying downstairs as his father beat the shit out of her in a drunken rage; then he was watching his mother dying. He could feel her cold hands against his cheek as she took her last breaths; the pain of the cancer that had slowly killed her finally leaving her face as she closed her eyes for the last time and the haunting whistle of her lungs quietening. Then there was Manny. If he wasn’t reliving the exact moment that he was forced to watch his best friend die along with the rest of their unit in Iraq, his mind would torment him with images of Manny’s two small children now without their father.

Swinging his legs out of bed, he rested his head in his arms and inhaled deeply through his nose for four counts, then out for another four; following the directions that his shrink had drummed into him. He hated going to see her, but it was the only way he had been able to avoid going to prison after Sparta. Brendan had paid for the best lawyer and they used Tommy’s PTSD to get him off the charges of desertion without jail time. Tommy couldn’t have cared either way about going to prison. It wasn’t like he had anything on the outside anyway, but Brendan had been determined. One of the conditions from the court was that Tommy attend regular therapy sessions and take the antidepressants that they forced on him. So every Tuesday and Friday, he would take himself off to his shrink’s office like a good little boy and begrudgingly spit out answers to questions she had no right to ask. Memories she had no right to drag up. She sat in her little arm chair writing notes and peering at him over her black rimmed glasses with feigned care. But he noticed the way her blank eyes would glance up to the clock on the wall behind his head to keep an eye on the time. She only pretended to care when she was being paid. But she didn’t care; no one did.

Brendan tried. Tess tried. Hell, even his old man tried, but the more they tried, the more he wanted to push them away. He wouldn’t let himself fall for the whole happy family trap they were unwillingly setting; he couldn’t fall for it because when he fucked it all up- which he would- he would have to deal with losing Brendan all over again. And in a way his Pop. It’s funny how he could hate his Pop with everything inside of him yet in the same breath never want to think about life without him. His father had changed… sobered up and found God.

Tommy had been angry when he first came back to the ‘Burgh. Why was it his mother had cried and begged for Jesus to save her and she had been ignored? She had always been so selfless and kind, yet the great man in the sky had ditched her at her first cry for help. The holy water she had forced her son to wash her down with may as well have come out of the toilet for all the good it did for her.

While back in the place Tommy had spent most of his childhood, the man who had forced him to grow up too quick was saved by that very deity his wife had pleaded for salvation from. The man who had chosen to drink and chosen to beat on his wife and sons was saved and given another chance. How was that fair? But nothing in life was fair, was it? Because if it was, Tommy would be lying in a grave while Manny would be watching his children grow up, wouldn’t he?

It was that disturbing reality that Tommy had finally begun to accept when he had driven his old man to start drinking again back when he was competing at Sparta. Tommy had done that; ruined all of the hard work his Pop had put into turning his life around. Instead of it making him feel good or smug like his younger self might have once thought it would, instead he was ashamed and appalled at himself. He had hurt his Pop so hard that he may as well have hit him. He may as well have become the very man he blamed for ruining his entire life.

Once again sober and trying hard to prove his love and remorse to his sons, especially his younger one, Paddy’s relationship with Tommy was oftentimes fraught and tense. The Conlon household wasn’t one of laughter; it never had been, but now there was a hint of healing seeping from the same walls that had been witness to the heartache and agony there. It was a very slow process but Tommy realised he had to be held accountable for his own behaviour now. He wasn’t that little boy anymore and he had to stop his past from consuming him.

Aside from being in the ring and letting out all of his pain onto willing opponents, there was only one other thing that brought Tommy some sort of peace. His nieces. Emily and Rosie Conlon were everything he and Brendan had never been able to be. They were happy and sweet and they knew they were loved. And it was because of that love they received in abundance that they were able to give it out to others; him being one of those fortunate people.

The first time he met them had been one of the most nerve wracking experiences of his life. He had been terrified to look at them or even go near them for fear that the blackness surrounding him would seep into the serene glow around them both. But they had that famous Conlon stubbornness and they had heard lots about their Uncle Tommy. Within minutes, they had cracked his hard shell and found the gooey centre in the middle. They were the one pure thing in his life and he wasn’t ashamed to admit that he couldn’t be without them.

Tommy glanced at the alarm clock and realised that it was almost time to get up anyway. Throwing on some sweats and his trusty black beanie, Tommy was out running in the frigid morning air before he realised it.

His feet pounded for miles along the near empty streets of his neighbourhood, following the same route he took every morning. He craved the repetition of routine and this morning was no exception. He passed the diner that his Pop ate at most mornings; ran past the school that he had attended before leaving with his Mom. The same cars were parked outside the same houses just like they were every morning and it soothed his soul in a strange way.

But as he came close to the railway bridge, he noticed something out of the ordinary.

He thought perhaps he imagined the flash of auburn at first but when he rubbed his eyes, he saw it again. Frowning, his feet carried him closer until his eyes fell upon her stood there, staring down at the track below.

She didn’t move; she was still as a statue as his quiet feet approached, barely crunching the stones and twigs beneath his feet. He pulled out his ear buds and considered the best way to go about this. She was precariously close to the edge and he had no desire to startle her into falling, but neither could he leave her. There was something inside his gut that just didn’t sit right.

“Uh Miss,” he spoke quietly. “Are you alright?”

Nothing. There was no reaction; nothing to show that she had even heard him. Sighing, he edged closer, reaching out to touch her gently on the shoulder. She looked at him then but she didn’t see him. Her eyes were vacant and red rimmed; her face was devoid of any emotion. A sane woman would have been alarmed to see a brooding, hulking man like him approaching her in an isolated place with the sun not yet risen. Her reaction, or rather lack of, put him on edge immediately.

She was shivering and he noticed that she wore nothing more than leggings and a t shirt. It was freezing out; not that he felt it because he had been running but in the barely there light, he could see that her lips were almost blue.

“Jenna Gillespie?” he frowned, his eyes squinting slightly to make out her features better. “Is that you?”

She had changed a lot. She had been a chubby, quiet thing with little glasses and braces when he last saw her. Now, the only thing the same was her fiery hair. Her older brother, Paul. Two years older than Tommy, he had been good friends with Brendan back in the day. She was nice enough from what little Tommy remembered of her. But then again, Tommy didn’t remember much from those days other than the personal hell that he endured at home day after day.

She blinked this time, almost frowning, but that was as far as it went. Yanking off his grey hoodie, leaving him in only a black wife beater, Tommy draped it around her shoulders and peered down into her face.

“Look, you’re freezing cold and I think we should get you somewhere warm, huh?” he suggested. “Are you out here alone?”

“He’s gone,” she whispered. She said it so quietly that he almost didn’t hear her.

“Who’s gone?” he looked around. “Was someone here with you? Boyfriend or something?”

“No,” she shook her head. “He’s gone and he’s not coming back.”

“Who?” Tommy pried gently.

“My brother,” a tear splattered down her cheek. “He just got back from deployment in Iraq and he was due home at lunchtime. My Mom had made his favourite dinner, but we waited and waited and he didn’t come. Then they knocked and as soon as I saw the police at the door I knew. He’s survived two tours of duty, but less than a day back in his own country and he’s killed in a head on collision with a drunk driver.”

The impenetrable wall around her was crumbling now and she began to cry, her shoulders shaking and tears flooding from her eyes. Tommy’s arms were around her before he even realised it. She was little more than a stranger these days but in that moment she needed someone. Never one for physical acts of comfort, he couldn’t stop himself and he rubbed her back soothingly as she gripped his vest for dear life while she cried her heart out. Perhaps it was the fact that her brother had been a military man or perhaps it was just her? He didn’t know.

Tommy closed his eyes and swallowed down emotions that swam to the surface as images of Manny flashed through his head. Manny cradling his son when he was born; the pride radiating from him as he kissed Pilar with such love and awe. Manny and him on latrine duty in basic training for screwing up manoeuvres. Laughing; Manny had never been without a smile upon his face, not even when they were far from home and he was missing his young family. He had always been the one to lift others when they were down; he was a light in a world of so much darkness. But Manny’s light had been cruelly extinguished, plunging Tommy into the black void without him.

He had accepted that there was no reason or rhyme in the way these things happened. So much in his young life had showed him that, but that didn’t mean it didn’t still hurt. The crying body in his arms was an outward expression of what Tommy was doing inside.

Eventually Jenna lifted her head just as the sun began to rise and the tears in her green eyes glistened.

“Sorry,” she sniffed, looking embarrassed as she eyed the wet patch on Tommy’s vest. “You must think I’m a psychopath. Haven’t seen you in years and the first thing I do is snot all over you.”

“I think you’re someone who’s grieving,” he answered simply. “I’m sorry about your brother.”

“Me too,” she sighed, wiping her face and shivering as the wind whipped around them. She realised that she had Tommy’s hoodie draped around her shoulders keeping her warm, but he must have been cold dressed only in his vest. She held the hoodie back out to him with something reminiscent of an embarrassed grimace.

“Keep it,” Tommy shook his head, wrapping it back around her. “It’s too cold out here.”

“Says you.”

“I’m hot from my run,” he shrugged. “I don’t feel the cold.”

“If you’re sure,” she shrugged back. “I guess I should probably get home before my mom realises I’m gone. She’ll freak out and she doesn’t need to be worrying about me while she’s thinking about my br-“

Her voice cracked and she closed her eyes, biting her lip to keep it from trembling. She let out a slow breath, trying to force herself not to cry again.

“Sorry,” she apologised.

“Don’t be,” Tommy shook his head. He understood that pain all too well. “You still live up near the laundromat and Wilkes bar?”

“How’d do you know that?” she frowned.

“Brendan used to go to your house all the time to play that dumb Atari with Paul,” he mumbled.

“They were such dirty geeks, weren’t they?” she smiled at the memory, before her face crumbled again. “What the fuck am I gonna do without him?”

Tommy wished he had answers for her, but he didn’t.

“Live your life,” he told her simply. “Live it for him because he can’t.”

“Like you?” she snorted angrily before she could stop herself. She didn’t even know what came over her but everything inside her hurt and she didn’t know how to deal with it. “I know all about you Tommy Conlon. Everyone round here does; hell, most of the country does thanks to Sparta. I’ve seen you from time to time going to Colt’s gym and you don’t look to be living to me. You hide underneath that stupid hat and those giant hoodies, glaring at anyone who comes within a few metres of you. Is that living?”

“Listen, I was just trying to be nice,” he spat. “You’re out here looking like you’re about to jump off the fucking railway bridge, and I was just trying to help you out. Fuck you.”

He turned to storm away but she reached out a hand to his arm; her cold digits wrapping around his warm flesh.

“Wait,” she said. She tugged on his arm and he allowed her to pull him around to face her. “I’m sorry. I was out of order. I didn’t mean what I said; I was just lashing out and that was really unfair of me.”

“No, I’m sorry,” Tommy yanked off his hat and sighed, running his hands through his sweat drenched, shaggy hair. “The truth is that you’re right. I don’t know how you’re gonna live without Paul cos I lost my Mom and I lost my best friend, the guy I thought of as a brother after I lost Brendan for all those years, and I don’t know how to live without them ok? But you’re not me. You’ve got parents who love you and you’ve got people that care about you. Don’t follow down my path cos it aint pretty and it will consume you to the point of no return. You go down that path and you won’t ever come back.”

“Does that mean you’re never coming back then?” she tilted her head and eyed him sadly.

Tommy just shrugged and kicked at a stone with his shoe, looking like a lost child.

“I think you just need to turn around and change direction,” she took his hand, standing closer. “I could help you.”

“Why would you wanna do that?” he mumbled.

“Because you might think no one cares about you Tommy but they do,” she cupped his cheek. “Your Pop and Brendan wanna see you happy and smiling. I know you didn’t have a great time with your Pop growing up; Brendan told Paul some of it, but that doesn’t mean you have to let it define you anymore. You’re not that little boy anymore, Tommy. You wanna know what I think?”

He didn’t, but at the same time he couldn’t tear his eyes away from hers and the genuine worry in them. She hadn’t seen him for years. He hadn’t even recognised her until she reminded him of her name, yet here she was, grieving the sudden loss of her brother, and still trying her hardest to help him.

“I think that you like feeling this way,” she murmured. “You like the pain and the hurt because it allows you to wallow in guilt. You feel guilty that you’re alive and your Mom and your friend aren’t. You feel guilty for hating your brother when he didn’t leave with you and your Mom because you were young and you didn’t understand his reasons for staying. It’s easier to let the guilt and pain eat you up inside then it is to heal. Am I wrong?”

Tommy didn’t reply. He couldn’t. He clenched his jaw and swallowed. How was it she could see inside of him and had managed to dissect him in mere minutes, while the woman in the smart suit with the serious face who was paid to do so couldn’t get anywhere close?

Her arms were around his middle, although she was so slight that they could barely fit around his body. Her chin was tucked against the crook of his neck and he breathed in the smell of strawberry shampoo and closed his eyes. His shoulders slumped as he wrapped his arms around her again, allowing himself to relax into the feeling it brought out in him.

She understood this feeling. She understood _him_.

“Maybe we could help each other?” she looked up, and he fought the urge to wipe the tears from her face. “You help me to keep on living and I’ll help you find your way out of that dark place?”

“It’s a nice idea, Jenna,” he pulled a face. “But my soul is damned. There’s no coming back for me.”

“I don’t believe that,” she touched his cheek, her eyes drowning him in their hazel green depths. “I believe that this, you being here and me being here is all for a reason.”

Tommy scoffed but she scrunched up her nose in frustration and he could see she really believed what she was saying.

“You can look at me like that all you want, Tommy Conlon,” she sighed, dropping her hand. “But I’m gonna fix you even if it kills me trying.”

“Trust me, I’m not worth it, Jenna,” he sighed.

“You’re wrong,” she shook her head. “Do you remember back in the fifth grade when Clay Alton kept picking on that new kid? I can’t recall his name now. He came from Somalia or somewhere like that, and he could only speak a little English. Clay Alton kept calling him names and telling him that he didn’t know why him and his family couldn’t just go back to their stupid country to die instead of coming here. Nobody would dare stand up to him because they didn’t want him to pick on them instead. Do you remember? Do you remember what you did? _I_ remember. You smacked Clay in the mouth and then when Mrs Tunstall asked why you did it, you looked at her and said that just because the kid wasn’t from here, didn’t he deserve to be treated with respect? Didn’t he deserve another chance at life because it wasn’t his fault that he’d had the misfortune of being born in a country ruined by war?”

Tommy remembered.

“Kamal,” he grunted. “His name was Kamal.”

“Well you stuck up for Kamal and you fought for him, so why won’t you fight for yourself? You fight for yourself in the cage, don’t you?”

“That’s different.”

“It doesn’t have to be,” she implored him to understand. She didn’t know why she was so desperate to help him. Perhaps it was a distraction from her grief or perhaps it was the fact that she’d always had a soft spot for Tommy Conlon since they were kids? They’d never been even remotely like friends, but she used to imagine what it would be like if they were. She took his hand and held it gently. “Listen to me Tommy, please. Just try, yeah? What have you got to lose? I’ll tell you. Nothing. And you have possibly everything to gain.”

“Hm,” he grunted.

“You know I’m right,” she said. “One day you’re gonna look back at your life and it’s up to you what you see. You can’t change the past, but you can change the future starting right now.”

“It’s not that easy, Jenna,” he muttered, squeezing her hand; his thumb rubbing across the back of it. “It’s just not that easy.”

“It can be,” she whispered, a tear dripping down her cheek. “You should know better than anyone that life can be over in the blink of an eye. Don’t waste the time you’ve got because you’ll regret it.”

“I don’t understand you, Jenna. Maybe it’s your grief talking but when did you get so grown up and wise, huh? Must have been all those books you always had your nose stuck in.”

“Those books were my escape,” she smiled. “They were my way to hide from the world because I was afraid to be myself; I was afraid to put myself out there. Paul was always much more confident than me and I guess I just allowed myself to hide in his shadow. But once I left high school, I realised I didn’t give a damn what anyone thought of me. I just decided to be me because I didn’t wanna spend the rest of my days pretending to be something else.”

“Well, I think I like this side of you,” Tommy smirked.

“Tommy, don’t try and change the subject with sweet words,” she teased. “I meant what I said. I will fix you. And you have to let me; if not for you but for your Mom and for the brother you lost. Heck, even for the brother you lost and got back finally. Do it for them if you won’t do it for yourself.”

Tommy chewed his lip as he mulled it over in his head. Could he do this? Did he _want_ to do this? How could he _not_ want to do this? She was right. He had another chance at life, and was wasting it going to bring those people he’d lost back?

“One condition,” Tommy answered finally. “If you get to fix me then you gotta let me return the favour. You gotta let me help you through these next months because they’re gonna be hard, Jenna. But I’m up for the challenge if you are.”

“Deal,” she held out her hand and smiled.

With the first genuine smile he’d given another person in a very long time, Tommy pulled her into his arms and held her tight.

They had both lost and were both suffering but maybe together they could somehow fix each other. Time was a great healer and if nothing else, so was friendship.


End file.
